


I Got Chills, They're Multiplying

by Rikku



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Black Romance, M/M, dubcon, greaserpaint, vwoodoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-08
Updated: 2012-10-08
Packaged: 2017-11-15 21:50:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/532149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rikku/pseuds/Rikku





	I Got Chills, They're Multiplying

Cronus leant against the wall. Took a lot of work to make a proper lean, just the right amount of pelvic-jut and studied casualness, and this one was damn near perfect, so it was a pity no one was around to see it. He wished Meenah would show up, already, like Aranea was always jabbering she would. If only to shut Aranea up, because _God_ did that bitch talk. Great rack though.

Rather proud of himself for remembering that humans worshipped that one god guy – humans like _him_ , he added mentally, humans like he totally was, because this being humankin thing was totally real and not fakey fake like magic – he decided that this was the right time to at last light his hip and sweet cigarette.

So of course when someone finally did amble his way, he was coughing and choking on smoke and in no fit state to use a pickup line on _anybody_. Which was fine, because it wasn’t anyone worth using a pickup line on. Not that any of these shmucks were worth his time, really.

“Hey, Kurlz,” Cronus said, spitting his cigarette to the ground. He breathed in deep through his gills to clear his lungs, because his voice sounded all choked up, like he was _scared_ , which was stupid, he wasn’t scared of anyone. Not because of how he was such a high caste that no one with any self-respect would challenge him, of course, he was way too nice a guy to rely on that sort of thing, but because he was so great to people that no one would want to hurt him. Yeah. “Can I call you Kurlz? It’s because of your hair,” he explained slowly, because Kurloz probably didn’t get it.

Kurloz just smiled his stitched-up smile and, of course, said nothing. Didn’t even sign, just smiled placidly and gave no other response. Fuck he was tall, a little taller than Cronus, even, and when you added those stupid tapering horns and that mass of hair and of course his creepy get-up he’d be almost intimidating if he wasn’t so obviously a harmless buffoon.

“Thanks, man,” Cronus said. “None of those other cats understand me, you know? But you, you’re a pretty cool guy.” He eyed Kurloz again, thoughtfully; that black bodysuit certainly brought out the well- _damn_ side of him, he managed to look halfway fuckable. So, “Your hair’s really something,” he tried. “A real statement. I’ve always admired that about you, how you don’t care what people think.”

Kurloz smiled.

“I’ve got a ton of hair cream,” Cronus said generously, “if you were wanting to borrow some to stop it looking like such a godawful mess.”

Kurloz shook his head.

“Right. Well, then.” No luck there, and anyway he was kinda starting to creep Cronus out. Didn’t mean he couldn’t get _some_ use out of this waste of a conversation, though. Cronus chewed at the end of his cigarette thoughtfully. “Hey, do you think I might have a chance with your moirail? I mean, he’s all wrong in the head – no offence to either of ya, of course – but I mean, that’s got to help, right? It’s not like he can pick and choose, even if Latula has taken pity on him.”

Kurloz frowned. He sort of looked like he wanted to fidget restlessly, but he wouldn’t, of course, not when his gestures and body movement were how he talked. Fascinating to watch sometimes, actually, how much he could say without words. Just this frown, for instance, was enough to tie Cronus’s guts into knots in trepidation and he didn’t even know _why_. Stupid. 

“Could you maybe not do that?” Cronus said, scowling; he realised he was scowling and twisted his face into a placating smile. “Not to insult you or anything, just – basically anything you do with your face is terrifying, so stop doing that. In fact maybe you could quit bugging me and leave, if you don’t mind? I mean, so someone less useless might come along and see me. I’d kinda like to get laid some time this _century_ , not that any of you will even entertain the idea long enough to see how handsome and kind I am, God, isn’t it enough that I’m even _considering_ stooping so low for you people? Augh.” Cronus leaned forward to murmur the next part confidentially, wrinkling his nose at the smell of him; he smelt of dusty rooms and sugary drinks and nothing else. “If you pass anyone on your way out who’s decent looking, direct them this way, you hear?”

Kurloz didn’t move for a moment, long enough for Cronus to irritably consider repeating his request; before he could, though, Kurloz smiled and stretched out his hands in a sort of shrug and then pointed at himself.

Cronus’s jaw dropped. “Wait. You?”

Kurloz nodded. 

“You’ll sleep with me?” Cronus said gleefully, resisting the urge to squee like Meulin did sometimes. Suspicion rose. “You’re not just saying that – well I mean, not _saying_ it, obviously, but – really? You really want to?”

Kurloz nodded.

Cronus grinned and gave his hair an extra slicking-back. Kurloz wasn’t anyone’s idea of a good conquest, but hey, he was practically _begging_ for it, might as well do the poor guy a favour. “You’re on, baby.”

Kurloz beckoned, and started to walk away. Cronus stashed his cigarette behind one ear and followed him, a little curious about where they were headed but content to trust in Kurloz’s judgement and also get a good eyeful of his ass.

Cronus whistled to show his appreciation – that was the gentlegreaser way to do things, he was pretty sure. Kurloz glanced back and didn’t smile. Didn’t frown, either. Didn’t do anything with his face at all, just stared. It was really disconcerting, actually, and Cronus started to re-think this. Kurloz was creepy and weird and there was _something_ fucked up in his brain, pretty obviously, so maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

Oh whatever. Sex was sex. 

Kurloz curled his hand around a shimmering-opalescent bubble, and the skyline twitched and juddered, surroundings shifting just a bit in that way they did when a dream bubble changed. Where before there had been nothing there was now a large purple archway with stairs leading down into darkness. Kurloz started down the stairs immediately, then glanced back up at Cronus when he didn’t immediately follow.

Cronus had just been taking the opportunity to enjoy the view s’ more, but Kronus smiled, his face and particularly his eyes bright points of white in the dimness, and tucked his arms against his chest, wiggling them in impersonation of a cluckbeast.

Cronus smouldered in outrage and took the stairs two at a time. “Chicken?” he snarled. “You calling me _chicken_?” He paused. “That is what humans say, yeah?”

Kurloz shrugged.

“Oh, whatever. The point is: I ain’t no _chicken_ , Kurlz,” and he slammed him against the wall of the corridor – odd memory to have, this, just some dark dungeon place, who’d bother to keep a private memory of somewhere like this?

I MADE IT SPECIAL said a voice in his head that was all bones and blackness, and Cronus screamed.   
He remembered that he wasn’t a coward just a second later and snapped his trap shut, but the damage had been done. Kurloz was smiling that sweet empty-headed smile again, but it was looking a lot more ominous now. 

Taunting him, _again_.

Cronus squared his shoulders. “Your stupid clown mind tricks aren’t gonna scare _me_ ,” he snarled, and went back to the business of pressing Kurloz hard against the wall so he couldn’t wriggle or get the upper hand, planting awkward kisses on his mouth, nipping at his skin, trying to get a reaction; Kurloz let himself be handled, placidly, but then his eyes flashed with bright colours – blindingly bright, it illuminated the whole corridor with psychedelic colour and left a painful afterimage in Cronus’s eyes, even when he blinked he could barely make out anything. Sudden horror overtook him, as mindless as it was strong, this was stupid, he was so stupid for coming here, oh God, oh God, oh _fuck_ he was _trapped_ here, the stairs they’d come down were gone and he was trapped he was trapped oh God no no no get out get out get out – 

Kurloz’s shoulders were shaking with silent laughter, and Cronus realised.

Knowing that this was a mind trick of some sort didn’t make the terror go away, though, and he stood there shivering with fear, fear of anything, everything, Kurloz particularly, but there was no one else _down_ here so he found himself burying his head in Kurloz’s chest, trembling so hard his teeth chattered. Kurloz patted at his back, and then wrapped his hands, lightly, around his neck.

YOU MAKE ME SICK

His words were as blinding as the light had been, but _inside_ Cronus’s mind, blanking out thought, reducing everything to panic and static. 

Just go with instincts, then, and his instincts were telling him that just standing here slackly like prey wasn’t going to do any good. “Yeah, well,” he said, and licked his lips and grinned taunting, “you’re human ‘easy’,” and he dived forward again, wrapping his hands around those ludicrous horns to get a good grip on him the better to mash their heads together, sliding his tongue slick along those scarred lips, worrying at the threads. Kurloz kissed back, to the extent that he could, shifted his gloved hands from Cronus’s neck to his back and ass, tugging him up so Cronus was basically sitting on him, sort of. Cronus growled against his mouth and ground against him and ripped at that damned bodysuit, trying to reach bare skin, managing to, here and there; lost himself to the slide of skin against skin, almost a silent war, bodies pressed too close together and touching every inch they could find and kissing stitched-tight and smoke-tasting, kissing clumsy, their rich bloods mingling, all of it maddening and painful and hot as _hell_. 

Cronus had to withdraw eventually, dragging in big shaky breaths. Kurloz, being the implacable fucker that he was, just stood there and smiled like they hadn’t had their mouths mashed together for the last who-knew-how-many minutes. Though he probably breathed through his nose or something? Weirdo. 

“Why’re you doing this if you hate me?” he asked, to fill in the silence. People liked it when you talked to them during this sort of thing, pretended like they mattered. 

Kurloz just smiled, sweet and vacant. Cronus scowled.

“Really, though, why,” he said, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, trying to get rid of the greasepaint that had smeared on him. “I mean I’m always up for a quick fuck, but what do you get out of this? Are you looking for a kismesis? Because I gotta say, I’m not really up for a long-term hate sort of deal, that’s not my style. I’m too nice a guy.”

Kurloz tugged him closer again, all easy strength and open irritation, but Cronus valiantly resisted, shaking his head. “No, come on, I don’t want to lead you _on_ ,” he said earnestly. “Figure I’ll be the bigger man here and lay down some boundaries—”

The slap caught him completely by surprise, solid and stinging; he worked his mouth and tasted the blood of his torn cheek and snarled. “You can’t treat me like that, do you know who I am?”

Kurloz’s shoulders shook as if with laughter, but his voice, when it came, was deadly serious, rage emblazoned in indigo. FOLLICULAR FOOL YOU ARE MOTHERFUCKING WORTHLESS

Cronus pulled himself free and stepped away, defiance curling his lip because no one spoke to him like that, no one, it didn’t matter that Kurloz had terrifying powers because Cronus had something over him as well. “Oh yeah? And if I tell your catty little bitch of an ex-matesprit about your creepy mind talking, about how you used it to take advantage of little ol’ me? If I tell Meenah what you really are?” He licked his lips and grinned triumphant: “If I tell _Mituna_?”

Kurloz’s head snapped back. His hands clenched into fists, and his reply was blinding-bright and strong enough to make Cronus stagger. YOU WILL KEEP YOUR OILY TRAP SHUT UNDERSTAND

“Aww,” Cronus simpered, “look, the little psycho wants to play at being a nice fella for his useless fuck-up of a moirail. Do you mess around with his head as well? So that’s how he can stand to be around you.” He crossed his arms across his chest and smirked, sure of his ground now. Kurloz was all talk, he crumpled as soon as you applied the teensiest bit of pressure. Easy as pie.

AND YOU WANT TO BE HUMAN, Kurloz said, and darted his arms forward again, so fast, how was he so damn fast. HERE LET ME HELP, and his hands were around Cronus’s neck, no, even worse, he was digging his fingers into the skin just behind his fins, blunt and cruel and Cronus whimpered and dropped, instantly, to his knees, held up only by Kurloz’s merciless grip on his face and oh God the _pain_ of that it made him shiver all over and just the thought of, of losing his _fins_ , no, no, please no. He tried to remember what god he was meant to be calling on, but the name of it escaped him, all pretention escaped him and there was no taste on his tongue but terror and Kurloz still hadn’t let _go_ and Cronus’s nerves were raw with the pain of it.

“No no no no no,” he whined, whimpered, keening and plaintive, and at last Kurloz released him. He slumped down in exhaustion and leant his head against Kurloz’s thigh and shook with terror and relief, and the mime’s laughter, blissfully, deafened all thought.

Kurloz’s fingers were winding in his hair, and now they tugged him up by it. Cronus staggered to his feet before his hair could be ripped out, and met Kurloz’s blank eyes.

UNDERSTAND asked Kurloz.

“Yeah,” Cronus said, resigned. “Yeah. Got any other orders while we’re at it, oh lord and master – no I wasn’t being sarcastic I really meant,” but it was too late because Kurloz had already swung them around so it was Cronus pinned against the wall, Kurloz, still, who was supporting his weight, Cronus’s feet kicking fruitlessly for ground that wasn’t there. 

Gloved fingers pushed into his mouth, and he choked and gagged as Kurloz wrapped his hand roughly around his tongue. TELL NO ONE

Cronus nodded, his eyes watering because Kurloz’s hand kept his mouth pried wide open and he was starting, helplessly, to drool; humiliating and mortifying and it only got worse when Kurloz’s other hand pushed under his belt, now he was held helpless in two different ways and he couldn’t even stop himself from grinding eagerly against that hand, couldn’t if he wanted to.

TELL NO ONE Kurloz said again, and squeezed his tongue tight. Cronus gagged.

Then he bit down on that hand, hard enough to make Kurloz let go. Kurloz was angered by this, plainly, probably about to launch into another one of his psychic tirades, but Cronus held out his hands palms-out and shook his head. “Hey, no need for that,” he panted. He stopped struggling to support himself, just hung there placidly and let Kurloz’s body support him, let his lust show in his lowered eyelids and his smirking submission. “No need for none of that, I give in, anything you want. I _obey_.”

Kurloz’s answering grin stretched the stitches. A world apart from his usual meek little smiles; this one was wide and mad and predatorily obscene, like he wanted to devour him whole. Sick bastard.

Cronus had never been this hard in his whole fucking _life_.


End file.
